


Lookin' Sharp

by Telesilla



Series: Baseball's In Your Blood [4]
Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Baseball, M/M, San Francisco Giants, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 23:02:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2558999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"What do you think? The skinny jeans or the really skinny jeans?"</em>
</p><p> <em>Buster's used to this; he just leans back on his hands and waits. Sure enough, Tim pulls another pair of jeans out of the drawer. "Or the gray ones? I'm kind of leaning towards those."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Lookin' Sharp

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case you're reading this and had no idea what Tim Lincecum wore to the 2014 World Series Parade....  
>  
> 
>  

_October 31, 2014_

Buster blinks and yawns. "Timeizzit?"

When there's no answer, he forces himself actually open his eyes and sit up. It's only eight and he's seriously tempted to roll over and go back to sleep. At least he doesn't have to get up and eat a huge breakfast.

On the other hand, there's a little nagging feeling in the back of his head. Maybe he's not hungry, but Tim sure is. Buster really wishes Tim had fed off him last night, but it's hard to argue with Tim's reasoning. Tim's going to spend a lot of the day outside and the forecast might be for rain, but that doesn't make it entirely safe for Tim. He'll need to feed off Buster tonight.

Just as Buster gives serious thought to getting another hour of sleep, he suddenly smells coffee. He was never much of a coffee drinker, but Tim likes it and he makes the best coffee Buster's ever had.

"Hey," Tim says from the doorway. He sets the coffee on Buster's nightstand and then sits down on the bed. "How're you this morning?"

"Better," Buster says. "Human again. I think." He'd stretched out on the sofa around six or so last night and he only vaguely remembers Tim walking him into the bedroom. 

"You've got about an hour if you want to sleep more."

"Nah." Buster sits up and reaches for his coffee. "Oh God, this is good."

"You can be had for coffee," Tim says with a laugh.

"It's true," Buster says. "I'm so easy."

"Only for me." There's a bit of an edge to Tim's voice and Buster glances over at him.

"Only for you. Even if we weren't hardwired to only want each other." He reaches out and rests a hand on Tim's knee. "I'd still only want you." It's kind of funny really, because they _are_ hardwired that way, but that doesn't stop Tim from being jealous. Over the years Buster's learned to deal with it, and it's easy enough to guess why it's come up again.

"You," Buster says. "And no one else."

"You know me way too well." Tim sighs. "I'm sorry. It was your moment--both of you."

"It's that I leaned on him, isn't it?"

"Damnit, you really _do_ know me too well. Yes it was; I was being stupid, okay?"

The other thing Buster's learned to deal with is the way Tim likes to talk around things. "Yeah," he says. "You were. But it's not...look, it's okay. I get it, all right?"

"Yeah. Okay." Tim leans in and kisses Buster. 

"Tonight," Buster says, turning his head a little. "I'll show you just how much I belong to you. Like really." 

"Like on your knees really?"

It's been four years, but Buster still blushes a little when he thinks about doing a full on scene. "Yeah," he says. "Like that."

Tim kisses his way down from Buster's jaw to his pulse point. "Fuck the parade," he says. His voice is a little slurred and Buster's not surprised when he feels Tim's fangs scraping lightly across his skin. "Let's do it now."

"Okay," Buster says with a shiver. He can't help grinning when Tim pulls back and looks at him in surprise; Buster's usually the sensible one. "Gotcha."

Tim laughs and kisses Buster neck--no fangs this time. " I really do wish we could skip it."

"And waste your speech?"

"And yours."

Buster rolls his eyes. "Such as it is. I actually came up with something funny, though. It took me a while."

"You're funny." Tim pauses. "Sometimes."

"Thanks for that."

A little while later, after they've had breakfast, Buster showers. In spite of what he said to Tim, he has a pretty good idea what he's going to say and he goes over it in his head as he washes his hair. Vogey, he thinks. Gotta call up Vogey.

Tim wanders in a little later and leans in the bathroom doorway to watch Buster get ready. "You're using even more product than usual," he says as Buster fusses with his hair. 

"It's raining," Buster says. He stares at the mirror and then puts a little more gel on his fingers. "And anyway, you love my crunchy hair."

"The funny thing is," Tim says. "I do. Well, the smell of it at least. I think of you every time I smell someone using Paul Mitchell stuff."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Tim looks a little sheepish. "You know how I am about the way you smell."

Looking up, Buster meets Tim's eyes in the mirror. "It's a good thing I only drink your coffee."

"My subtle way of scent-marking you."

Buster laughs and goes back to messing with his hair until he's sure he's got it right. 

Dressing is is easy, at least for Buster. Once he's put everything but his sweatshirt on, he settles at the foot of the bed to watch Tim.

"What do you think? The skinny jeans or the really skinny jeans?"

Buster's used to this too, he just leans back on his hands and waits. Sure enough, Tim pulls another pair of jeans out of the drawer. "Or the gray ones? I'm kind of leaning towards those."

"Which shirt are you wearing?" 

"Good question...." Tim tosses all three pairs of jeans on the bed next to Buster and walks into the closet. "Blue? Or there's that new plaid one. Oh hey, I could wear this sort of purple one."

"I like you in plaid," Buster says, although honestly, he's only saying it to get a rise out of Tim.

It works; Buster hears Tim laugh. "Yeah, but you're a hick. You like everyone in plaid."

"Not true. I like checks too."

Tim laughs again. "I think I'll wear the blue."

"You gonna wear a suit jacket?"

Tim's head pokes back out of the closet. "Because I do that all the time." He pauses. "You think I should?"

"Nah," Buster says after thinking about it. "Save that look for the White House."

"I might even wear a tie for that." There's a pause and Buster hears coat hangers sliding around. "Got it. Toss those gray jeans in here, would you?"

A few minutes later he walks out. "What do you think?"

"Damn," Buster says. "You look...how do you even make that work?"

"I take it you like it?" Tim does a three-sixty turn. It shouldn't work because really, a patterned coat and a plaid scarf? But somehow, it does. If Tim were taller, Buster thinks, he'd look like he'd just stepped out of GQ.

"How do you do that?" Buster asks again, thinking about his own regrettable experience with GQ. "I would look ridiculous."

"Oh you could pull it off," Tim says, staring in the mirror as he fusses with his scarf. "The real problem is what you just said."

"Huh?"

"Because you'd think you looked ridiculous, you'd be uncomfortable." He turns to look at Buster. "Fashion, even men's fashion, is ridiculous and silly. You don't have time for silly stuff."

"True," Buster says, as he stands up. "Silly or not, you really do look good. Hot even."

Several hours later, Buster sits in his chair and looks at Tim. "They can't decide if this is a dynasty or not," Tim says to the crowd and the tv cameras. "They talk about the off years and the modern systems of free agents and all the rest of that bull...crap. I like to think I've been around baseball for a little while...." He pauses while everyone laughs. "And I like to think I've seen a baseball dynasty or two. And this? These players and this organization? This is a dynasty." Another pause while the crowd whoops and hollers.

"And San Francisco? This is _your_ team, your dynasty! Your Giants!"

As everyone goes fucking nuts, Madison nudges Buster with his elbow.

"I'm staring too much?"

"Way too much."

Buster ducks his head. "I just...he's hot, okay?"

"If you say so."

Later, back at the park, once the private pictures have been taken and everyone's cleared out their lockers, Buster says his goodbyes. He tries not to worry about who will be back next year and who won't; Tim's lover or not, Buster has no say whatsoever in those decisions. He'll see some of the guys again before Spring training; Cain wants to take him fishing and at some point he'll end up visiting Bum and Ali on the farm.

He's the last player out of the clubhouse and there are hardly any cars still in the players lot by the time he makes his way to his truck. He's miles away. It's almost like it's not real to him yet. Like he's going to blink and find himself back behind the plate staring up the third baseline at Alex Gordon.

Tim's leaning against the door of Buster's truck. "Hey." His scarf is draped around his shoulders, but otherwise he looks like he did earlier. 

"Hey," Buster says. 

"You all right?"

"Yeah. It's just...it's always going to be hard." Buster smiles a little. "Doing it after a parade makes it easier."

"Maybe next year you can find out what it's like after a parade in an odd year."

"I'd like that," Buster says. He looks at Tim. "But now...."

"But now," Tim says as he takes off his scarf. He drapes it around the back of Buster's neck and then tugs a little. "But now, let's go home."

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't the parade story I was planning on writing, but then I kept looking at pictures of Tim and it kind of just happened.


End file.
